It has been a trying winter. Sickness after sickness has plagued our household - stomach bugs, colds, everlasting coughs, pneumonia. With all of this has come sleepless nights, & with that has come two tired parents.
It's not a great combination: overtired parents & sick kids. Or, really, overtired parents & kids, period.
Suffice it to say, we're running low on patience these days.
Yesterday we managed to make it to Mass only ten minutes late, which means we didn't miss any of the readings (#winning). While we were settling in at the very back of the church with our coughing, sniffling brood we tried our best to be as non-disruptive as possible. In hindsight we did pretty well, considering how miserable everyone was, & got through the first two readings without incident.
As we stood up to hear the Gospel, my oldest accidentally knocked over one of the missalettes, sending it down to the floor with an audible thud. My husband shot him a look & opened his mouth to say something before I quickly interjected: our 5-year-old had simply been trying to hand me the baby's blanket that had fallen to the floor; bumping the missalette had been an accident. He accepted that without a word & turned to the front as our Deacon was beginning to read from Matthew:
"Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own eye?
How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me remove that splinter from your eye,’ while the wooden beam is in your eye?
You hypocrite,* remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter from your brother’s eye."
Damn. That hit close to home.
How often do we nitpick our children, chiding them for every little, minor, borderline insignificant infraction?
Use your fork, wash your hands, put your shoes away, cough into your elbow.
Stop losing your coat, stop fidgeting, stop talking with your mouth full, stop asking so many freakin' questions.
Don't. Stop. No. Do this. Now. Faster. Hurry, hurry, hurry.
These are children we're talking to, young people who are meant to be learning through play with their God-given curiosity, & instead we often end up barking at them like drill sergeants.
And what about us, hm? How many times a day do we do the very same things we tell are children NOT to do?
We lose sight of what we ought to be doing as parents - learning through love - when we can't see past the beams in our eyes, focusing too much of our attention & energy on their little splinters. How can we be good teachers if we are failing to follow our own lessons?
The reading stayed with me for the rest of the day, & as we are entering Lent it seems like a good lesson to bring into this season of repentance & spiritual renewal. How can I focus less on the "wrong" things my children are doing & instead turn that scrupulous eye towards myself? How can I improve so that I may be better for them?
Today has been a new day & I have already failed several times. Definitely more times than my kids, even if they did have to be reminded to brush their teeth & pick up their underwear. But I will try to remember, the next time I open my mouth to scold or nag, to look inward & see if I am also struggling. Chances are I will be. Chances are I will be too kind with myself & not kind enough with my sons. But I'll aim to do better, to tear the beam from my eye to see more clearly the forming souls before me, & remember that loving them & letting them feel that love is far more important than chewing with your mouth closed.
It's not a great combination: overtired parents & sick kids. Or, really, overtired parents & kids, period.
Suffice it to say, we're running low on patience these days.
Yesterday we managed to make it to Mass only ten minutes late, which means we didn't miss any of the readings (#winning). While we were settling in at the very back of the church with our coughing, sniffling brood we tried our best to be as non-disruptive as possible. In hindsight we did pretty well, considering how miserable everyone was, & got through the first two readings without incident.
As we stood up to hear the Gospel, my oldest accidentally knocked over one of the missalettes, sending it down to the floor with an audible thud. My husband shot him a look & opened his mouth to say something before I quickly interjected: our 5-year-old had simply been trying to hand me the baby's blanket that had fallen to the floor; bumping the missalette had been an accident. He accepted that without a word & turned to the front as our Deacon was beginning to read from Matthew:
"Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own eye?
How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me remove that splinter from your eye,’ while the wooden beam is in your eye?
You hypocrite,* remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter from your brother’s eye."
Damn. That hit close to home.
How often do we nitpick our children, chiding them for every little, minor, borderline insignificant infraction?
Use your fork, wash your hands, put your shoes away, cough into your elbow.
Stop losing your coat, stop fidgeting, stop talking with your mouth full, stop asking so many freakin' questions.
Don't. Stop. No. Do this. Now. Faster. Hurry, hurry, hurry.
These are children we're talking to, young people who are meant to be learning through play with their God-given curiosity, & instead we often end up barking at them like drill sergeants.
And what about us, hm? How many times a day do we do the very same things we tell are children NOT to do?
We lose sight of what we ought to be doing as parents - learning through love - when we can't see past the beams in our eyes, focusing too much of our attention & energy on their little splinters. How can we be good teachers if we are failing to follow our own lessons?
The reading stayed with me for the rest of the day, & as we are entering Lent it seems like a good lesson to bring into this season of repentance & spiritual renewal. How can I focus less on the "wrong" things my children are doing & instead turn that scrupulous eye towards myself? How can I improve so that I may be better for them?
Today has been a new day & I have already failed several times. Definitely more times than my kids, even if they did have to be reminded to brush their teeth & pick up their underwear. But I will try to remember, the next time I open my mouth to scold or nag, to look inward & see if I am also struggling. Chances are I will be. Chances are I will be too kind with myself & not kind enough with my sons. But I'll aim to do better, to tear the beam from my eye to see more clearly the forming souls before me, & remember that loving them & letting them feel that love is far more important than chewing with your mouth closed.
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